


i'll carry you home tonight

by flintsjohn



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Sex, Canon Disabled Character, Dirty Talk, Getting Back Together, M/M, bottom!Michael, michael works at the wild pony, only it's more like carefully handpicking canon moments i need, rnm week 2019, the boys communicating like proper adults
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 08:03:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19988815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flintsjohn/pseuds/flintsjohn
Summary: between the drinks and subtle things, the holes in my apologies,you know, i'm trying hard to take it backso if by the time the bar closes and you feel like falling downi'll carry you home tonightrnm week 2019 - day 5: freaky friday (bartender!michael au)





	i'll carry you home tonight

**Author's Note:**

> written for day 5 of rnm week - freaky friday. just another getting back together fic used as an excuse to write some smut ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> title/summary from we are young by fun.  
> for ly (@partsofthesamecosmicbeing) ♡

“Guer, do you mind getting more lager from the back? I’m a little tied up here,” Maria yells over the music, barely turning to look Michael’s way as she serves another wave of customers. He sends her a thumbs up he’s not even sure she sees, and makes his way past the little curtain and into the back room, grateful for the breather from the Friday night crowd raging outside. 

He’s just hoisted the crate up in his arms when he hears Maria squeal, a sound so loud, even with the booming music, that it makes him wince. He wonders who or what could possibly have caused such a shriek as he makes his way back into the main room of the bar and when he does, and his eyes fall onto the person responsible for Maria’s glee, he almost drops the crate in his hands.

Alex Manes is standing on the other side of the counter, a crutch at his left hand. Michael has come into the room just in time to see Maria rounding the counter and throwing herself into Alex’s arms with another delighted yell. Michael, on his part, can’t do much more than stare. Alex’s hair has gotten longer in the two years since Michael last saw him, though it’s not unkempt, and he still has no beard, so Michael assumes he’s still enlisted, despite… Michael’s eyes fall on the crutch in Alex’s hand, and his hands tighten around the handles of the crate. Maria had told him about the injury as soon as it’d happened, six months before, but seeing the consequences of it first hand is a whole other story. 

He’s still standing, crate in hand, eyes on Alex, when the man’s eyes find him and they both freeze. Michael is sure he looks like a deer caught in headlights, so he shakes himself out of his stupor and puts the crate down, and goes about his job, refilling Racist Hank’s drink and serving a couple of overly-friendly ladies. He doesnʼt usually mind being around them, considering how well they tip when he flirts back a little, serves them a wink along with their drinks. Plus, he knows Maria has his back in case they get too handsy, just like he has hers. In one memorable occasion, sheʼd had the bouncer pick up the middle-aged woman whoʼd pinched his ass and slurred lewd words at him and bodily removed her from the premises. Michael usually goes for a single, well-aimed punch. It’s not like he – or Maria, for that matter – can’t protect himself, but sometimes it’s nice to know that someone will come to lend a hand. Tonight, though, his eyes keep straying to Alex, and heʼs too distracted by the airman to reply to any of the flirty comments the ladies – and the occasional, out-of-place man – direct his way. He knows theyʼll eventually file away and he wonʼt get the usual tip, but itʼs worth it for the moment he manages to catch Alex laughing freely, his head thrown back as Maria hits him with a rag.

By the time he’s able to focus back on Alex properly, the crowd has dispersed a little, and Maria is back behind the bar, still talking to Alex as she hands him a shot of tequila. Michael takes in a steadying breath, guessing he still has some time before he has to face Alex. He makes a round of the bar, gathering up empty glasses and bottles and sweeping tables, and when he’s back at the counter, not ten minutes later, he feels a hand press against his arm.

“Hey,” Alex smiles, small and shy, when Michael looks up. He gulps down a breath and smiles back, nervously, with a tiny _hi_. Dammit, Alex always seems to have the ability to steal his words along with his breath. Plus, he thinks trying not to grimace, the last time they’d seen each other hadn’t ended that well. Michael doesn’t know where they stand right now, doesn’t know if Alex is glad to see him, or will want to scream at him some more. 

The drive in had been Alex’s idea. It had taken Michael by surprise, but he’d been so excited to be out in the open with Alex that he hadn’t cared about anything else. They didn’t touch all night, sitting on the tail end of Michael’s truck with their legs spread as far as possible so that their knees could brush every once in a while. Michael had been acutely aware of the fact that Jesse Manes had been circling them all night, but he had brushed it off as long as Alex had seemed to be alright.

Only, he wasn’t, and it’d all come crashing down when the movie ended. It had all gone so well Michael had almost forgotten about the small deal he’d made with one of his coworkers from Foster’s Ranch, just some copper wire that Sanders had sold him at a knock-off price. It was only when Alex came to him, anger in his eyes and accusations in his words, that Michael actually gave some thought to what it must’ve looked like from the outside. Not that he’d had any strength to explain himself – he knew, at the end of the day, that Alex wasn’t wrong. He waved off laws with a shrug and spent a lot of his free time in the drunk tank, if only to tease Max at work. The perfect petty criminal, not at all a match to the decorated airman he had in front of him.

He’d tried, to no avail, to get Alex to just talk to him. He knew Alex deeply, had seen him talking to his dad earlier that night. A perfect 180 couldn’t have come from anywhere else. It didn’t matter. Alex could be incredibly stubborn when he set his mind to it, and his mind was made up: they couldn’t be together. So Michael had lashed out, the only way he knew how, using words to cut deep, and pretending it didn’t hurt to see Alex walk away. They hadn’t seen or talked to each other again before Alex left for his third tour. Michael has a feeling Alex isn’t exactly the same person he was before that.

“Can we talk?” Alex is asking now, when Michael focuses back on him. He nods, tilting his head towards the back room. He signals to Maria that he’s taking his five minutes’ break before he moves to lead Alex, and she narrows her eyes at him knowingly. Alex must catch the exchange, because he raises an inquisitive eyebrow at Michael, but he just shrugs and makes his way into the other room silently.

“Hi,” he says again once they’re in private. For the first time tonight, he allows himself to really _look_ at Alex, beyond the first, stunned impression he got when he walked into the bar. He looks tired, fatigue clear in the slope of his body and the way his muscles bunch up under his simple blue button down. There are dark circles under his eyes and he looks way thinner than Michael remembers, but Michael reminds himself that at least he’s here. Alive, breathing. He came back. And now he wants to talk.

“Hey, Guerin.” Alex is smiling again, a private and fond thing that makes Michael go all soft inside. It’s a good sign, Michael thinks. He lets himself hope, just for a second, that maybe this time their time together won’t end in a fight. He bounces up on the balls of his feet and back on his heels, chewing on a nail as he waits for Alex to speak. When he doesn’t, he prompts, “You wanted to…?”

“Yeah, yes, sorry.” Alex drops his head in that bashful way he has, laughing at himself, and Michael has to clench his fists against the urge to reach for him. But then Alex is asking, nodding his head back to the bar, “Does Maria know about…?”

“Some.” Michael winces at the poor attempt at explaining himself and shakes his head, then tries again, “Well, she knows I have feelings for you. She figured it out when I wouldn’t stop asking for news about you, I guess.” He shrugs, feeling awkward in his skin under Alex’s gaze. “But she doesn’t know we were, uh…” He trails off. He never really knew how to define them, even before their last big fight. They were, what? A thing? In a relationship? Together? None of those words seem to define properly what’s between them, so Michael just leaves it at that when Alex nods. He doesn't seem to mind that Maria knows, though, only asking as if to prepare himself for an interrogation later.

“So are you two-“

“No,” Michael hurries to cut in, shaking his head vehemently. He almost wants to snort, or punch Alex for asking, but he’s not sure that he’s entirely against the hint of jealousy he can detect in his voice. “God, no. I mean, we were, for a while. It was more of a friends with benefits thing, though.”

Alex nods again, and he seems to sag a little, like the words have placated something in him. Again, Michael has to keep himself from smirking at the idea of Alex being jealous of Maria, of all people. “So are you helping her out here, or…?” Alex prompts.

“Not really. Well, kinda. I, uh. I work here.” Michael makes a vague gesture to the room at large, and tries not to feel the sting when Alex’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He buries his hands in the pockets of his jeans and looks at the floor as he explains, “Someone told me I was wasting my life a couple of years ago, so when Maria was hiring I applied. I still take odd jobs around town and I’m at Sanders’ most mornings, but this is steadier. Got a flat and everything.” He’s still looking at his own toes, even as he sees Alex’s feet move forward tentatively. “I’m also working on my degree. It’s online courses and shit, but at least I’m gonna have somethin’, you know.”

“ _Michael_.” It’s almost funny how that simple word coming out of Alex’s mouth with so much awe and regret mixed together can get Michael so emotional. He sniffs and looks up at Alex, almost daring him to say something. Which, of course, him being Alex, he does in the most self-flagellating way. “I’m so sorry for what I said at the drive in. I couldn’t stop thinking about it for months, tried to put it down into words so many times, but I just…” 

“You were right, though,” Michael offers when Alex trails off.

“Maybe,” Alex says with a small smile, “But I should’ve known better. I shouldn’t have judged you so harshly for what I know is in part a product of your circumstances, but most importantly… I should’ve talked to you, before walking away.”

“Well, yeah, but I didn’t really-“

“Michael.” Michael’s mouth clicks shut at Alex’s exasperated sigh of his name, his excuses cut short. “I’m trying to apologize here,” Alex continues, amused, and Michael mutters _sorry_ under his breath as Alex shakes his head and goes on, “I should’ve given you a chance to explain, and I’m sorry I didn’t. What I’m trying to say is, I know there’s a lot we need to work on. We’re shit at communicating, but I want to get to know you, properly. I want to be with you, Michael. If - If that's what you want, too.”

Michael bites his lower lip as Alex finishes. He tucks his thumbs into his pockets and swaggers forward a step, smirking when Alex inhales sharply and looks up at him from where he was staring at his shoes. “You sayin’ you wanna date me or somethin’, Manes?” He drawls, grin widening as Alex rolls his eyes.

“Or something, yeah.” It’s Alex taking a step forward now, bringing their bodies close together. The sudden closeness almost leaves Michael breathless, but he still manages to mutter, "I'm sorry, too. For what I said about you and and your dad."

"Doesn't matter now." Alex shakes his head, still smiling. Michael kind of wants to point out that it _does_ , because he'd been a dick even when he knew what Jesse Manes had put him through, but Alex is already speaking again. “Look, I wasn’t planning on having this conversation in the back room of the Pony, with half the staff probably listening, but-“

“Shit,” Michael breathes, eyes darting to the curtain. Sure enough, there’s a flash of movement like someone’s been caught eavesdropping, and Michael drops his forehead to Alex’s with a laugh. “Maria’s gonna rip me a new one if I don’t get back to work soon.” 

Alex hums, but neither of them makes a move to pull apart. On the contrary, their hands find their way to each other’s hips and shoulders, leaving them gently swaying to a convenient slow song playing on the radio. It’s another long while before a yell of “Guerin, get back in here!” finally reaches them, and Michael draws back with a defeated sigh, hands immediately finding Alex’s face to cup his cheeks. “Look, I’m off at midnight. Come back to mine after?” He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous asking this – in times gone by, this used to be the easiest part of their relationship. Now, this thing between them feels too sacred to ruin with such a proposition.

But then – “Only if you let me buy you breakfast tomorrow,” Alex replies with a smile, and Michael really can’t keep himself from stealing a long, relieved kiss. 

“Hm, good.” He smiles when they pull apart, nerves forgotten as he takes a step back and around Alex for good measure. “Now let’s go back out there, you can take the first round of Maria’s interrogation.” His laugh almost covers Alex’s groan as they walk through the curtain, but only just so.

*

They barely even make it to Michael’s flat before their hands are all over each other, tugging at clothes and pushing closer, starved of touch after being apart for so long. This is the part they’ve always been good at, Michael knows. He also knows it’s probably a mistake to be doing this before they’ve properly hashed everything out, but Alex is so real in his arms, so full of life, that he pushes that thought out of his mind in favor of dragging him into the bedroom.

They’re both breathless by the time they hit the mattress, giggling like school kids as they get tangled in their shirts in the haste of getting them off. Michael doesn’t think much of getting naked, flinging his clothes all over the bedroom and already moving for the lube before he realizes Alex is hesitating, fingers fiddling with the button on his jeans.

“Alex?” Michael suddenly feels _too_ naked for the situation, which is crazy considering he’s exactly the correct amount of naked for what they’re _supposed_ to be doing. He gulps as Alex’s eyes focus on him, a wobbly smile forming on his lips. “What’s wrong?”

Alex shakes his head, inclining it lightly towards his leg. _Shit_ , Michael thinks. Of course. He probably believes Michael will think something different of him when he sees the injury. Michael mentally kicks himself for not having clarified sooner that he most definitely will _not_ think less of Alex for it, and he scoots on the bed until he’s kneeling in front of the airman, hands rising to cup Alex’s face ever so gently. 

“Look at me,” he murmurs when Alex still hasn’t met his eyes; he waits for him to comply before he goes on, “Alex Manes, you are the bravest person I have ever known, and I love you, just as you are.” Alex’s breath hitches at that, but he nods, and if the way Michael’s throat has closed up is anything like what Alex is feeling, then Michael understands him not having any words. So he does what he always does best, and turns the flirt dial on. “Now, you think you can still fuck me on my hands and knees?”

“Jesus _Christ_ , Guerin,” Alex blurts out with a laugh, burying his face in Michael’s shoulder as he shakes with it. Michael laughs along with him, hands never leaving Alex’s body, rubbing soothing circles on his neck and shoulders as he waits for a reply. It doesn’t take long for Alex to lift his head up and nod, teeth buried in his bottom lip. “I think so. Not for long, though, ‘been wearing the prosthetic for a while today. Might have to prep yourself.”

Michael keens and nods frantically at the idea of opening himself while Alex watches, guiding him with his words. With a fleeting kiss, he leaves Alex to finish undressing himself as he gets the supplies from the side table. By the time Alex has set his prosthesis aside and is resting with his back propped up on the pillows, Michael has wet is hand and shifts so that he can straddle Alex’s legs. He barely glances at the stump, just a passing look to make sure Alex is comfortable, and then he's focusing on fingering himself, hips rising and falling rhythmically with the same pace Alex is now using to tug on his cock. They keep eye contact the whole time, their free hands clasped together, and Michael is sure he’s not going to last long if Alex keeps looking at him like that. 

Sure enough, it’s not long before he deems himself ready, stubbornly waving away Alex’s attempts to make sure he’s prepped enough as he presses a condom in his hand. He tugs Alex into a rough kiss, a mess of tongues and clacking teeth that finally, _finally_ gets Alex on board with Michael’s plan for the night, and then he’s being pushed to turn around. He’s vaguely aware of the fact that Alex tugs a pillow under his own leg to help with the pressure, too busy clutching at the sheets as Alex finally lines himself up. He’s pretty sure he misses a minute there, because then Alex is bottoming out inside of him and letting out a breathless, “Shit, _Michael_ ,” as he drapes himself over his back and waits for Michael to adjust. 

“’Been a while,” Michael mumbles, already pretty out of it just from the feeling of Alex inside of him after so long, the sound half lost in the sheets where he’s pressing his face. If he still had the ability to form sentences properly, he'd probably ask how Alex can still be so coherent, while he can't do much more than breathe in and out, stubbornly telling his muscles to relax.

“Yeah, I can tell.” Alex’s voice is teasing and amused as he drops a kiss to the nape of Michael’s neck before nuzzling at the base of his curls. Then, ever so slowly, he starts moving. Michael is so focused on the drag of Alex’s cock inside of him that for a moment he doesn’t even realize Alex hasn’t stopped talking, filthy words leaving his mouth. “Never had anyone else, have you?” Michael can’t do much else than shake his head, fingers tightening in the sheets as the head of Alex’s cock drags deliciously against his prostate. “No, of course not.” The grin in Alex’s voice is clear as he presses his lips to Michael’s ear. “No one else can make you feel this good. You’d fuck others, but I’m the only one who knows what you really need. How much you crave being _filled_.” He pairs the last few words with a sharp thrust that makes Michael keen high in his throat and arch his back, effectively presenting his ass to Alex. The shift makes the angle even better, and soon Alex’s hands are sliding over Michael’s sides to grab onto his hips and bring him back to meet him thrust for thrust.

Michael loves when Alex gets like this – rough, but never violent; foul-mouthed, but never humiliating. Always the exact mix they both need to reach that level of epicness that’s always characterized sex between them. If Michael’s mind was clearer in this moment, he’d probably make a note to himself to add kink discussions to the list of conversations they're supposed to have in the morning, but the way Alex is pistoning his hips so that the head of his cock jams into Michael’s prostate makes sure he can’t think properly, only ask for _more_ and _harder_ in pitiful whimpers.

After that, it doesn’t take long for Michael to reach his climax. It’s been so long since he’s had anything inside him besides his own fingers that even the first push of Alex’s cock in him would’ve been enough had he not controlled himself, but then Alex is easing on his speed to grind into him slow and dirty, and at the same time he slides a hand up to pinch one of his sensitive nipples, and Michael is off like a rocket, without even a finger on his cock. 

He’s aware, vaguely, of the fact that Alex finishes a couple of minutes later, mumbling something about _tight_ and _hot_ and _perfect_ , but he’s already well on his way to being asleep by the time he can feel Alex pulling out. He manages a weak, disappointed moan, and the last thing he remembers before falling asleep is gentle hands cleaning him and a warm body pressing against his back, strong arms wrapping around his waist, and soft words whispered in his ear.

*

Waking up in someone’s arms is almost surreal for Michael, so much so that it startles him awake and he almost jolts both of them out of bed in his haste to sit up. He groans in the process, his body still pleasantly sore from the night before, but his attention is quickly caught by Alex echoing his groan as he stretches, a hand pressed to his stomach where Michael _might_ have elbowed him as he squirmed.

Michael has to resist the urge to pinch himself, because if waking up with someone in his bed is a rare occurrence for him, waking up to _Alex Manes_ , hair mussed and eyes soft with sleep as he looks up at Michael, feels almost miraculous. Alex, who runs his hand over the closest part of Michael’s body he can reach – his right thigh – as he props himself up on an elbow and smirks at him.

“Mornin’,” he drawls. It makes Michael blush like a virgin which, dammit, after the man in front of him fucked him four ways into Sunday last night, he most definitely is _not_. It’s just, he reasons, that even the few times they’d woken up to each other before their Big Breakup, Alex had never been this light and flirty, had never looked at Michael like he didn’t regret a thing about the night before. He thinks, maybe, the change in Alex goes far beyond physical adjustments. 

“Michael?” Alex asks, bringing him back to the present, “Are you ok? I wasn’t too rough last night, was I? Did I s-“

“No, god, no, I loved every second of it,” Michael rushes to reassure him, sliding down again so they’re lying face to face. He brings a hand up to stroke his thumb down Alex’s cheek, earning himself a smile. “I just… Can’t quite believe this is real,” he admits, pushing his forehead to Alex’s. Guilt makes his throat close up when he feels Alex flinch against him, but he doesn’t let Alex pull away, whispering his next words right against his lips. “Don’t you dare apologize again. I love you, and I know we need to work through our shit, but I don’t want to spend a single minute without you ever again, not if I can help it.” He pauses, aware of the fact that it’s the second time in under twenty-four hours that he’s confessed his love to Alex, and has to push the thought of Alex not having said it back yet to the back of his mind as he continues, “So here’s what we’re gonna do, Private: we’re gonna shower, and I’m gonna blow you because I love how pliant you are for me in the morning, and then you’re gonna buy me breakfast at the Crashdown and we’re gonna start talking. Sounds like a plan?”

Alex blinks at him owlishly when he pulls back, mouth agape as he stares. Then, ever so slowly, he nods, a smile spreading on his face as he brings Michael close again to kiss him. “’s Airman, not Private,” he mutters when they separate, and Michael has to laugh, because _of course_ that’s what Alex got out of that whole speech. As he shifts to slide off the bed, though, Alex catches his attention again by lightly slotting his fingers on top of the matching bruises on Michael's hips. He presses an apologetic kiss there when Michael hisses, and only then does he look up with a smirk and says, "Oh, and Michael? I love you, too."

Showering together takes a bit more maneuvering than what they’d been used to, but Michael makes it work with a stool brought over from his work station, and a little bit of muscle to keep Alex upright against the tiles as he works his mouth on his cock until Alex comes down his throat with a loud moan. They try to make quick work of getting ready after that, though they’re both still boneless from morning sex and unable to keep their hands off of each other. Having woken up early, though, they manage to make it to the diner by nine, right after rush hour for breakfast. 

With stacks of pancakes and full coffee cups in front of them, Michael and Alex finally start talking – though their hands are still entwined, which admittedly makes it a little hard for them to eat one-handed. Neither of them cares. Alex tells Michael about being in therapy, both physical and psychotherapy; he tells him about the plans he already has for after his honorable discharge, which is not too far off, of the contacts he has to start working as a private consultant. Michael tells Alex about college, about working at the Pony with Maria, about mandatory family dinners on Sundays at Max’s – which, he points out, nervously looking up at Alex through his lashes, Alex will probably be invited around for sooner or later, if he’s serious about the dating thing. Alex, with an eye-roll and a kiss to Michael’s knuckles that steals his breath away, assures him that he definitely is, and that he looks forward to being invited. They’re both blushing and looking down at their empty plates, before Michael changes the topic to the bet they have going on in the group about when Maria and Isobel are going to give into the UST between them and finally give each other a shot. Alex scoots closer to the table to listen to the gossip, eyes glinting and lips curled into a smile.

Then, when their plates have been cleared away and they’ve had way too many cups of coffee, and the diner’s starting to get crowded for lunch, Alex nervously tells Michael about his dad having been arrested. Michael can’t quite believe his ears when Alex tells him that Jesse Manes is gone for good, locked in a military facility with little chance to be heard from ever again. With this last little puzzle piece in place, the hints of change he’d caught in Alex finally make sense. He’s free – _they’re_ free. And with that, he _has_ to lean across the table and kiss Alex soundly, hands cupping his face and mouth swallowing his moans.

By the time Michael has to leave to get to work at the Pony – weekends are always double the work, and they’re also setting up for Ranchero Night on Monday on top of that – they’ve been talking for hours, across the board, from the weather to the night Alex left for basic, from the way Michael’s bed squeaks and he should probably get new boards, to Michael looking into reparative surgery for his hand. They’ve laughed, and almost cried, and kicked at each other under the table, and rolled their eyes at each other more times than Michael can count. As he presses Alex up against the side of the SUV he’d left in the Pony’s parking lot the night before, Michael feels like he’s teetering at the edge of a cliff made of the saddest and most heartbreaking moments in their relationship, ready to take the leap. Beyond that lies a tumultuous sea, but as he kisses Alex, he can hear the soothing sound of waves lulling his chaotic soul to peace. As he kisses Alex, he jumps.


End file.
